#I can't draw children lord help me
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I really wanted to draw them in Miya's school uniform :3
Also baby version, because middle schoolers are basically babies to me anyways
Poor Langa forgot he doesn't need his winter wear at his new school - but Reki saw they were both wearing green and decided they were besties!
#I can't draw children lord help me#lots of tags I'm sorry#I did my best to capture the gangliness of middle school in the first one#everyone going through puberty at their own weird pace#so reki's still a shortie but he's already getting leg hair#and langa's already in the middle of his growth spurt but very awkward about it#reki often gets in trouble for trying to wear sweatshirts with his uniform#well for not wearing the uniform properly in general 😂#reki's big curls are the only thing keeping that hat on lol#langa def has a crush in both of these#but has no idea how to handle it#I grew up in a cold area so clip-on mittens are Childhood to me 😌#renga#sk8 langa#sk8 reki#langa hasegawa#reki kyan#art
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Gee, thanks DC! You Just Turned Bruce Into An Irredeemable Ass.
So, at the end of Gotham War Bruce has officially lost everything. Alfred is still dead, Selina is "presumed dead" and Bruce is both financially and morally broke. Why, you may ask, is Bruce so much worse off this time? Let me count the ways.
He preformed a psychic lobotomy on Jason
The "it's for your own good" excuse only makes the mental rape undertaken by Jason's own father that much more heinous.
Just when you think Bruce can't sink any lower he does. When Dick recognizes that Bruce has lost it, he attempts to use a failsafe disconnect that Bruce himself built into the system. How does Nightwing get thanked for that? Well that brings us to number two on the list.
Batman attacks up his eldest son for doing what he's supposed to do when Batman has gone rouge.
Bruce beats him up because nothing proves you are in control of your sanity like hitting your children. While Dick is holding back, Bruce does no such thing. He hits Nightwing hard enough to send him flying. It could have gotten even worse if Tim hadn't shown up.
Tim arrives and attempts to talk some sense into Batman.
Tim tries to talk Bruce down. It doesn't go well. When Robin is trying to help, as he always does, Batman uses the attempt to reason with him to put the smack down on his son. Bruce could have killed Tim but apparently feels no remorse or guilt.
If there was any teeny tiny little doubt that Bruce will not win the Father of The Year award in 2023 it died a horrible screaming death when Batman abandons his children to potential arrest. Yes, he left a batarang for Dick and Tim but any glimer of possible hope associated with that action was instantly extinguished by Damian's reaction to Batman's callous betrayal.
Bruce abandons Damian.
Look at Dami; he's devastated. Since he came into Bruce's life, Damian has struggled with feelings that he can never earn his father's love and respect. Well, that negative self-image was reinforced in way that may never be repairable. Bruce just utterly destroyed a 13 year old child because of his inability to feel any kind of empathy.
And how does this all end? The best part is that Bruce takes all of his parental responsibilities and dumps them onto Dick.
Thank you Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard. You've taken Batman from being an edgy anti-hero and made him into a callous monster. Part of me hopes that Bruce never comes back because he doesn't deserve his family.
The only positive aspect in this convoluted mess is that Damian and Tim will be far better off with Dick than with Bruce. Yes, Tim is mostly independent but he still needs guidance (particularly since Tim's first instinct is to try and save Bruce). Damian is essentially Dick's son emotionally anyway so this might help to sustain the positive character growth we've seen in him as of late.
The point of this rant is to wonder what on earth DC thinks they're doing. This story arc has been pure character destruction as far as Bruce is concerned. It's bad storytelling too; rushed, frenetic and massively disappointing.
Hasn't the popularity of Good Dad Bruce in Wayne Family Adventures proved that fans are tired of Bruce being a dark depressed and brooding edge lord? We all accept that Batman is a character with deeeeep issues who is in desperate need of therapy. I, however, draw the line at Bruce being an abusive a**hole.
In years to come when fans wonder when Batman jumped the shark, this is the plot line they'll point to.
#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#batman#nightwing#tim drake robin#damian wayne robin#batfam#dc stands for disappoints continually
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Oh dear lord, my love Ghouls are you Clio jersey?????
Womb tattoos have different meanings for each drawing, the tree like is literally a family meaning, bringer of life and blood of ancestors. I'm giggling and imagine Price literally marking witch as his future baby momma.... Oh sweet heaving... (Can't blame this man, if I was him I would turn into a carpet just for this goodness)....
But there is a trick on this tatto womb in particular, bcs of the branch and name it would turn into a Suffering (?) one. Each ovulation getting witch itching and moody without prices presence or touch. Even worse if he could smell them....
(sorry your drable has, once again, broken me into a primitive stage)
Thanks for the wonderful writing and as always, may you land only knows abundance.
💕🌹💕🌹
I don't know who that is! So I am just Ghoul!! I absolutely adore womb tattoos I think they're so cute.
Unfortunately Price's mark is temporary. He's hijacking Witch's magic and re-writing it a little to work for him, and it's a painted spell so it will fade with wear. This is where I get to talk about Witch's magic and the way it interacts with Price. Witch's magic is heavy, it's the collective weight of generations of magic, which makes it extremely powerful but she often needs to use ingredients/tools to prop it up. She's still growing into her magic, so to speak. Doing too many things with her magic in one spell means more struts, more pillars to bear the load, so for her period she usually only focuses on 1 thing: keeping her magic/blood undetectable. Which leaves her with little room to manage symptoms and a little bit of a magical hangover.
Price knows magic, he is magic, and he's strong, stronger than Witch. So he acts as Atlas, holding up the world for her. He hardly feels the burden of it. He takes the magic she's worked on herself and tells it, "If you do these things (stop cramps, regulate emotions/hormones, just make Witch feel better) then I will carry your weight, look here's my name, burden me." And to a certain extent Witch's magic(the great line of witches that made her) said, "Alright but if you're signing on to be the rungs on Witch's ladder we expect you to stick around, we expect you to help carry this magic into the next generation."
So I think it absolutely struck Price when he saw the actual branches, the sigils and the signature on the dotted line of his deal, that Witch is going to be the mother of his children. It's all spelled out there in the magic wrapping around her, in the tattoo on her stomach, "John Price" added to the family tree.
And even though the mark fades with her period, you're right. She gets a little itchy the next time she's ovulating, her magic knocking on Price's door like "Hellooooo, you said you'd carry this burden so get to it, chop chop." Which really just leaves Witch a mess unable to think about anything proper and dripping while she tries to work. She has to take a week off. It doesn't help that as soon as Price smells her he gets a little.... off his head. He really tries to be a gentleman, but when Witch presses a little too close she gets bent over the nearest surface so Price can do his job.
#ghoul speaks#x oc#cod x oc#john price x oc#john price mw2#captain john price#john price#f!oc#john price x f!oc#oc: witch#captain price cod#captain price mw2#captain pric#1fae1#fae!price#I think all bonded fae go feral when their partner is uh.... fertile#they're animals your honor#same with periods though I think bonded fae just go feral when their afab partners leak
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Hello! Just wanted to say that I'm in love with your art and ur one of the people that made me fall in love with jttw jdjdje Also ur characterization of Wukong and Tripitaka makes their dynamic so charming and amusing 😭 (They r so dumb god)
Random question! Do you have a favourite moment in the book?
First of all, thank you so much!! oh my gosh that is so kind TToTT I'm really happy you liked them!! The pilgrims all being dumb together is my favorite thing hhaha
As to your question, oh man, absolutely. Its more a bunch of moments all from one chapter. My favorite chapter of the book goes something like this:
And I've said this before but should say again, it has been several years since I read the novel cover to cover, so I may not remember all the details just right, but as I recall it, my favorite chapter is the one immediately following the story of the White Bone Devil, which is one of the most famous chapters. But to me, the story of the White Bone Devil is nothing compared to their ridiculous conflict with Lord Yellow Robe, Kui Mulang.
After Monkey is banished by Tripitaka, he goes back to Mt Huaguo, leaving Pigsy and Sandy to look after the priest. Which goes about as well as you'd think. Pigsy says he'll go find food, then just takes a nap, Sandy I think goes looking for him, and when they both don't come back for a while, Tripitaka goes looking for them and ends up walking DIRECTLY into this demon's lair.
When Sandy and Pigsy learn of the priest's capture, they attempt to stage a rescue. During the middle of the fight, Pigsy thinks they're going to lose so tells Sandy to cover him, he has to go take as shit IMMEDIATELY. Runs into the bushes, and escapes all the while Sandy is captured and yelling at him for being a fat, useless, coward (rude.. but in this case very true lol)
Pigsy, now alone and unsure what to do, flies to Mt Huaguo to find Monkey and ask him to come back and save everyone. He tells him everything that's happened, and that Trip has been captured and will surely die if he doesn't help. Even after hearing all that, Monkey refuses. He's still upset that Trip dismissed him and thinks dying and reincarnating ought to teach the brat a lesson! Pigsy gives up at first, skulking off and mumbling to himself about what a flea-ridden bastard Monkey is... this is overheard by some of Monkey's minions who deliver the news to the king himself. Monkey orders Pigsy to be brought back for execution LOL
Thinking on his feet, Pigsy tries to redirect Monkey's ire, and thinks one of my favorite lines in the novel. "A warrior is more likely to answer a challenge than an invitation".
He tells Monkey that it wasn't him... This demon, Lord Yellow Robe, he's the one who called Monkey a weak, pathetic, cowardly fool.
And this makes Monkey ENRAGED
Monkey springs into action, flying to confront this demon. Screaming about all the nasty things this demon said about him while Lord Yellow Robe has no idea who the hell this monkey is or why he's so pissed off.
And boy, does Monkey go HARD on this guy. After he beats him up and along with a bunch of his soldiers, the demon retreats into his lair and Monkey is left out. He can't find a way to get to him, so instead takes out his anger on Kui Mulang's wounded but still living soldiers, killing them all. He meets back up with Pigsy and Sandy and tells them his brilliant idea to draw the demon back out.
By taking his half-human children and killing them outside the gates, hoping that will enrage their father enough to come back out. Even his companions think he's malding a little hard
This has gone on awhile so to cut the rest short, Monkey is eventually "victorious". I think I recall a subplot about Trip being turned into a tiger too, and there was this captured princess subplot too.
But this is my fave chapter lol. Basically "Monkey Accidentally Saves The Day By Avenging An Imagined Insult To Himself"
Peak Monkey behavior, absolute mad lad, everyone is an idiot. Its just a mess and I love it.
#ty for the ask <3#sorry for the long post aslfdjf i really like this particular story#monkey is so emotionally stable and not an insecure bully at all guys#he does come back after this#and his reward for his uh... heroic tantrum is he gets to have the headband put back on#i just kinda winged a design for kui mulang but i like how he looks#sun wukong#zhu bajie#tripitaka#sha wujing#kui mulang#yellow robe demon#jttw#jttw tag#journey to the west
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Eonwë feels him, rather than sees.
Arafinwë's presence is one of a booming light. His steps, sharp and quick, echo with war drums. Eonwë closes his eyes and takes a breath.
"My Lord!" a guard declares. "The Ñoldóran wishes to see you."
Wishes is a weak word, Eonwë thinks. The Ñoldóran is ready to tear me to shreds and burn my remains.
He feels, rather than sees, Finarfin's menacing impatience, takes another breath, and nods to his guard.
Arafinwë storms into the tent, and the air immediately shifts to something dark, heavy, and sparkling. There's spear in his hand; his glowing hair is in dissaray. Eonwë sends a weary prayer to Manwë.
"I've heard some strange news, o Herald," Arafinwë begins, his sweet voice laced with poison. Eonwë shifts his wings. "Pray tell, are they true?"
Eonwë moves to his armour stand carefully. "This, my friend, depends on what you're talking about. If the news of supply shortage reached your ears, you shall not worry; it has been dealt with already."
"Hmm," Finarfin draws, tilting his head. "Try again."
Eonwë can't help but notice a predatory spark in Arafinwë's eyes, a hostile tension in his moves. He feels unease settle in his stomach, and shuffles his feathers.
"Well," he says, "if you're talking about remaining groups of orcs scattered across the continent, then yes, it's a problem, but nothing we cannot deal with."
Arafinwë stares. Eonwë is suddenly uncomfortably aware of the spear in his hand.
The Ñoldóran closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and glares. "Eönwë. Fourty-eight years. Fourty-eight years have we spent on this accursed land. Forty-eight years have we fought, side-to-side, against Morgoth and his servants. Fourty-eight years have I known you, and forty-eight years have I deemed you a friend. Tell me: did all of that mean nothing to you?"
"You forget yourself, Arafinwë," Eönwë straightens at that, and glares, too. "Your accusations are not only unfair, but hurtful."
Finarfin snarls. He looks at the Herald, nothing but rage and despair behind his eyes.
"Eönwë," he growls. "Tell me, where is Sauron?"
"Arafinwë," Eönwë begins, and Finarfin snaps.
"You had ONE JOB!" he screams, and the air changes, rage and power and hurt swirling around the King, and Eönwë is caught between wanting to cover and to step forth, to bring his hand on his friend's shoulder; he stays firm in place. "ONE JOB! We brought him here in chains. We stripped him of his power. I trusted you, Eönwë! And now -"
"I have not betrayed your trust," Eönwë says, daring and angry. He is not a betrayer. He will not be called so. Finarfin's face is desperate, tears rolling down his cheek, lips twisted and trembling; Eönwë hesitates but, despite himself, reaches forward, and Finarfin snarls.
"Don't touch me," he spits. His hands are shaking. "Don't you dare touch me. Don't you dare acting like it's not your fault."
"Arafinwë," Eönwë repeats, quietly now, and tries to reach to his mind. Finarfin shuts it completely.
"My sons," he whispers, voice shaking. "Findaráto died in darkness, tormented by him. Angaràto and Aikanàro fell to his fire. Artaresto fell to his army. But I am only one of many fathers who weep for their children. I have not experienced his cruelty myself. How many more did he slay, how many more did he torment? What did he tell you, Eönwë, to convince you to release him?"
"I did not release him, Arafinwë," Eönwë says again, and makes a step forward; he freezes when Finarfin tenses, and lowers his hands. "I promise you: I left him chained and guarded. There was no treachery on my part."
"We could have stopped him. We could have stopped him if we knew on time, we-"
"Arafinwë," Eönwë whispers. "You could not."
Arafinwë jerks his chin. Tears shine in his eyes, and Eönwë is seized by the need to stop it, to wipe them away, to wrap his wings around his friend and protect him from anything that might happen; he doesn't give in to it.
"It's not yours to decide, what I could and what I couldn't. It wasn't yours to decide whether to chase him or to let him be."
"I would not let you go after him." I would not let you throw yourself in danger so recklessly.
"I wouldn't ask you, Eönwë. Not then, not now."
"You will not find him. Even if you go after him, you will not find a trace of him - Arafinwë, please. Please, listen to me," Eönwë tries again, and he feels helpless when Finarfin's steel eyes look at him. "Please, Arafinwë, do you trust me?"
"No," Arafinwë answers. "Not on this. We ride at dawn."
Eönwë searches the face of his friend. Arafinwë is cold; there will be no changing his mind.
"Arafinwë," Eönwë whispers instead of answering.
And the Ñoldóran knows their attempts will be futile; he knows their enemy is forever lost. Eönwë knows there will be no search party, and he knows Finarfin thinks about his people too much to make them wait another day, or month; he places a hand on Arafinwë's shoulder.
Arafinwë shudders, turns away, and leaves the tent. Eönwë is left alone.
I'm sorry, he offers through their bond.
Finarfin doesn't answer.
#this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it. i don't think i like exactly how it turned out :/#finarfin#eönwë#sauron#silm fic#war of wrath#silmarillion#tolkien#feather in your braid
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Okay, Mario Fandom, hear me out.
@elitadream @akiiame-blog @palskippah I hope you don't mind me tagging you again!
I know we don't have anything modern and concrete about Peach's parents, but hear me out about this poly crackship I've developed:
Toadsworth x the King and Queen of the Mushroom Kingdom.
Imagine Toadsworth, a staunch ally of the Toadstool Royal Family since the matriarch and patriarch wandered into the Mushroom World (some people fan-call it Nin, if I recall correctly), falling in love with them.
(I like to think Toadsworth has the charisma to get with anyone, maybe even having a slew of past partners, but choosing King and Queen Toadstool in the end.)
Imagine the Queen getting pregnant. Imagine the day Peach was born. Imagine the day Toadsworth saw his youngest ward for the first time, and bursting into great tears that never quite washed out of his bowtie. Imagine Toadsworth watching his princess grow up.
Imagine the Koopa Kingdom declaring war on the Mushroom Kingdom. Imagine Toadsworth helping the King and Queen as best he can protect his home, their home, their kingdom, all the while biting down the feelings he never had for anyone else in his life. Star Spirits know they have more on their plate than I'd wish on anyone. They have a kingdom to run and another to fend off - professing my affections for them aren't going to do any of us any good.
Imagine the day Toadsworth's lord and lady were ambushed while on a walk with him, blasted with a deadly spell by Magikoopa. Imagine Toadsworth and his fellow stewards poring over every book of magic they have available, seeing if there's a counter-spell, a cure, anything to keep the pain away from their eyes.
Imagine the day Toadsworth lost them.
Imagine Peach becoming Toadsworth's raison d'être, because while the whole kingdom mourned, nobody grieved quite as much as him and the Princess. Imagine the night that Peach woke Toadsworth up screaming from a nightmare. Imagine Toadsworth fervently promising her he won't leave her for as long as he draws breath.
Imagine Toadsworth picking himself up every day for the sole purpose of making sure Peach wouldn't be alone or unprepared to lead the kingdom when the fateful day he couldn't hold out any longer came.
Imagine Mario and Luigi appearing in the Mushroom Kingdom. Imagine Toadsworth seeing everything he and his lord and his lady were and could have been in Mario and his princess, and deciding he deserves nothing less a Game Over in the deepest pit the Underwhere can find if he can't get those two together before he's gone.
Imagine the day Mario and Peach get their acts together. Imagine the day Mario asks Toadsworth's permission to marry Peach. Imagine the wedding, and Mario being nervous Peach will back out. Imagine Toadsworth telling him his side of the story about Peach's parents, and that neither he nor Peach nor Luigi would let Mario hear the end of any cold feet.
Imagine Toadsworth and Mario's mama and papa getting drunk on the best liquor they could find on Earth, crying about their children and how far they've come.
Imagine when Peach tells Toadsworth they're expecting, if you'd like to headcanon that they have kids. Imagine him freaking out for all the best and worst reasons for the next nine months, the fretting not stopping until his grandchild is asleep and swaddled up in their Mama and Papa's arms.
Imagine Toadsworth holding his grandchild (grandchild, yes; Peach and Mario made it clear Toadsworth was their nonno) for the first time, wishing with all his heart that the man and the woman who he loved and never had enough bravery nor got enough time to tell them are able to see him and Peach from the Overthere.
#thebigpapilio#super mario bros#toadsworth#stoolworths#mario#princess peach#mareach#mario x peach#peach's parents#mushroom kingdom
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Elmsworth House, July 4th, 1818
Sarah: Oh m'lady I hope I did your hair how you wanted it to be!
Aurelia: You did a wonderful job, Sarah, I'm not sure anyone else could've done this.
Sarah: *giggling* I sure hope your beau likes it!
Aurelia: Sarah!
Sarah: I'm only partially teasing m'lady.
Aurelia: Sarah, would you happen to have any information on the Carews? This is all so sudden, and I don't believe I've dined with them before. I'm sure Papa, Mama, Georgiana, and Charles know of them, but I must express I do not.
Sarah: No, I do not, but I hear from downstairs that the family consists of two brothers and three sisters, but the youngest sisters aren't old enough to be attending such a dinner! I also happen to know they've been of the gentry for nearly 150 years, but they were originally traders.
Aurelia: Ah, alright. Do you know the ages of the children?
Sarah: No, but I know more of their personal affairs!
Aurelia: I'm not a big fan of gossip Sarah.
Sarah: Yes m'lady, I know. But this is very bad! The younger son is an atheist!
Aurelia: Dear God!
Sarah: Yes m'lady! And that's not all, his father wants him to be a clergyman and he refuses! Instead, he spends his time writing poetry!
Aurelia: Oh how scandalous! I can't think of anyone who wouldn't want to serve God!
Sarah: Oh m'lady, forgive me if I speak out of terms, but perhaps you may understand him if you got to know-
Aurelia: I have no intentions of getting to know a man who has no relationship with God, I'm sorry Sarah.
Sarah: Oh well I don't blame you, m'lady! I'm done fixing your hem, you may head downstairs.
Aurelia wasn't sure who to talk to. The drawing room was so busy and bustled. Of course, she couldn't talk to any of the Carews without a proper introduction from someone, so she instead engaged herself in more conversation with Martha about the secret she told her earlier.
Elizabeth: Oh and God I can't stand that Laurence! Are we all to be brought to shame and scandal by his ways? Who in their right mind doesn't believe in God?! We did NOT raise him in such a way!
Helena: Oh my dear friend, I'm not quite familiar with the circumstances of your situation, but I can mutually agree that both of our sons disappoint us. Luckily, you have another one.
Emma: Oh Papa! But you must introduce me to her! I simply love her blue dress, it compliments her skin so well! Oh, and I love how she adorned her hair with those flowers! Please, Papa, introduce me to her!
John: I will approach Ms. Ramsbury my dear, and she will introduce us to her properly! You must remember etiquette protocols.
Emma: Oh yes! Thank you, Papa!
Ashley: My dear, navy blue suits you so well! You must wear it more often.
Patience: If you wish my dear.
*growling stomach noises*
Frederick: Mr. Ramsbury, do your cooks always take this long?
Peregrine: No, Lord Worthington, they do not. I'm not sure what they're doing.
William: I'm not sure if I can go through with it Laurie. My nerves aren't well.
Laurence: William Carew, be a man! What more would you like me to say? It was a mutual agreement. It's good for her family and ours.
William: Oh you're right.
Martha: *whispering* Yes, that's Laurence and he's an atheist. He also writes a bit of poetry. William is in the process of convincing him that God is real, so fear not! Perhaps he needs the additional help, if you'd like I could introd-
John: Ms. Ramsbury! I'm sure you know my daughter Emma.
Martha: Oh yes, how rude of me not to converse with you, dear Emma! I'm sure your poor Papa would rather spend time talking to the other males. May I introduce the two of you to my first cousin, Lady Aurelia Grey, daughter of the Duke of Hollow.
Aurelia: An honor to make your acquaintance!
John: Oh the honor is all ours. Emma, if you'll excuse me.
Martha: Emma has just turned fifteen! She's not yet out in society, but has come here for this very special day between our families!
Emma: Oh yes, what a lovely dinner it will be! Oh and Lady Aurelia, I simply love your dress! You look so beautiful! I also like yours, Ms. Martha, you look quite lovely as well.
Aurelia: You're too kind Ms. Carew. Oh, and I love how your ribbons match your eyes!
*Emma blushes*
Martha: Oh won't you look at that, they do. I'm sure you'll be swept off the marriage market immediately next Spring!
Emma: Oh, I do hope so! I want to get married as soon as possible, that would please Mama a great deal. Papa-not so much.
Martha: Well you see Emma, my dear cousin will be approaching her twentieth year in four days! She will soon be a spinster if she's not married soon. Would you do her the honor of introducing her to your brother, Laurence?
Aurelia: No that's not neede-
Emma: Oh, I've never introduced anyone before! I'd be honored!
Aurelia: ....
Emma: William, Laurence, allow me to introduce you to my newest friend, Lady Aurelia Grey, daughter of the Duke of Hollow! *whispers to Aurelia* Did I do it right?
*Aurelia nods her head up and down*
William: A pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Aurelia.
Aurelia: The pleasure is all mine!
Laurence: Hello Lady Aurelia. I'm Laurence. A pleasure to also make your acquaintance.
Aurelia: Yes, I know.
Laurence: Do you?
Aurelia: I know who you are, yes.
Laurence: Is the pleasure not all yours?
Aurelia: No, it is not with pleasure.
Laurence: Alright, let's try this. Bonjour, Lady Aurelia. Vous êtes très belle dans cette robe bleue. Je suis Laurence Benedict Carew, et je suis honoré de faire votre connaissance.
Aurelia: Votre Orléanais est très bon. Mais je n'ai toujours pas le plaisir de me lier d'amitié avec un homme qui n'accueille pas Dieu dans sa vie.
Laurence: Prenez ma main.
Aurelia: Non.
Laurence: J'aimerais que vous n'ayez pas de préjugés à mon égard. Je ne crois pas en un Dieu. En effet, comment un Dieu pourrait-il mettre une créature aussi belle et magnifique devant mon visage et s'attendre à ce que je ne devienne pas fou ? Votre Dieu n'est pas aimant, s'il l'était, je n'aurais pas à résister à l'envie d'embrasser vos lèvres pulpeuses et d'étreindre votre silhouette parfaite...
Aurelia: Mr. Carew...
Laurence: Permettez-moi de vous prendre la main.
Laurence: Maintenant, permettez-moi d'embrasser vos tendres articulations.
from the beginning | previous | next
#ts4 regency#regency sims 4#sims 4 regency#sims 4 historical#simblr#sims 4 regency era#vintage sims#sims 4#sims 4 historical story#ts4 georgian#ts4 simblr#TCOTD
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﹏ ❛ all you gotta do is call me.⠀⠀⠀äs nodt.
˖⁺ ⊹୨ ★ the one where you form a friendship with the malevolent enity.
content disclaimers ╱╱ gn!reader. young!reader. HEAVY religious trauma and themes. angst to comfort. vollstandig!äs nodt. mild body horror. wc: 830.
YOU HAVE (1) MESSAGE UNREAD !⠀⠀—⠀⠀“the 2nd halloween short of the month! this one may have been inspired by czs horror history analysis of the man who can't breath from insidious and i might have used my own religious trauma as a base for this. i wrote this with christianity in mind (mainly nigerian christianity). anyways, enjoy 💃🏾”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀YOU DON'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME YOU PRAYED TO HIM.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀With the number of times you've been called an abomination before the eyes of the Almighty God, it's no surprise you'd see yourself as an unclean mix of flesh and blood who did nothing but wallow around. Sinner. Sodomite. Witch. Those were a few of many names that followed you around, hanging over you like a haunting veil of shame. Your relationship with your mother had always shown signs of strain, but you couldn't hate her. If anything, it was your fault for not being the ideal child, rebelling against the heavens. She was trying to guide you. Children of God don't act like this. Good children of God don't say that.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀God must hate me, you affirmed. The Lord God above would never approve of you. You swear he's looking down on you this moment, shaking his head in disappointment. Years and years of Christian sermons crept around in your mind, festering in your conscience. You'd be happy, they said. He's the only way, they said. You can depend on him. He'd be there when you called for him. Surely he'd comfort you in your darkest times. Where was he now? You silently cried out to the sky, tears already spilt and stained your cheeks, questioning your faith. That was the first time he showed up.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The second time he showed himself, you'd been jolted awake by a nightmare. You'd gone downstairs to grab a glass of cold water, leaving the sticky heat of your bed. As you opened the cabinet, you couldn't help but notice how cold it'd gotten, the frigid atmosphere making you shiver. That's when you saw it. The man in white. His long, brittle hair shone in the moonlight. His eyes were rolled at the back of his head, drawing tears of blood from his sockets. Your eyes widened in silent fear, shuddering at his appearance. He bore a long white cloak, a prominent and bloody stitch running from the middle of his throat to the bottom of the robe, revealing gory muscle and bone. And his mouth. His teeth were left in the open, lacking the protective soft appendages. His blue star halo hung on the top of his crown, shining brightly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Your goblet had long hit the floor, bits of sharp glass scratching your feet and the floor. Your mother had caught wind of the incident, screaming at you for having broken such a fragile object. She ranted on, but you were too focused on the man standing behind her. Were your eyes deceiving you? Could she not see him? You silently went to your room, ignoring your mother's verbal vomiting and eager to forget the past event.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀By the time you saw him again, he spoke. You were alone, your mother leaving you home in favour of church service. You lay on your bed, feeling drained and sleepy. As you turned over on your back, you opened your eyes, only to be met with those same eerie scleras. You screamed, the apparition looming over you menacingly. Slowly, the man raised a pale, bony arm, and caressed your cheek, paying no attention to your crying and erratic movements. Being raised in a heavily prayerful home stuck with you, no matter who you grew up to be. You've always been taught to condemn the devil, resist temptation and you'd be blessed with favour and prosperity. Yet here you were, finding solace in a demonic entity. You soon stopped crying, the man's nurturing touch gradually lulling you to sleep.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A fight with your mother was never pretty. Silence and dissociation were your sword and shield during those times. Heartbroken at her cruel words, you slammed your bedroom door, heaving and sobbing. The reason for my stagnation, she called you. Nothing could've prepared you for that moment, her mocking shattering your heart and breaking your resolve. Curling yourself up in a ball, you tried your best to give yourself the scarce bit of consolation you had left. Then you heard him. His heavy, raspy breathing. The only sound in your room besides your wailing. He extended his sickly white limb towards you. He took hold of you, his body no longer radiating the icy temperature. You felt like a baby in its mother's arms, the entity stroking your hair. He gave you the nurture and care you've been looking for this entire time. You were no longer going to look above for alleviation. God wasn't there for you when you needed him, so why call him again? On the other hand, the spirit held you in his grasp, emitting a sense of security.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And in that moment, you came to an epiphany. You didn't whether you'd be thrown in hell or not, you could always count on the man in white to be there for you. Even when you were dead, and long gone, you could always count on him. You just had to call him.
DEMI'S POST-IT⠀❞⠀ok im actually kinda proud of myself for writing all of this in like, one night. i also may or may have not nearly started crying in the middle of writing this. i hope this helps somebody with some sort of trauma stemming from religion. kinda based this on my experiences in my life, the ending is kind of how im feeling currently.
template by @tinytowns! taglist: @ue-projectz
#彡﹒🎧﹒❪ 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍:𝖆𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖉𝖙 ❫#bleach#as nodt#as nodt x reader#as nodt fluff#bleach x reader#꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝕾𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑²³ 𓂃 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘇
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1300 - Day 1
Meet the Norwood family..... they live on a small farm in the outskirts of Windenburg, a fief of Lord Gilbert de Clare.
William inherited this farm from his father when he passed while William was just a child. He never had any siblings but found a responsible wife in Eva. She's happy when she is surrounded by people while her husband is the exact opposite.
Together they had 3 children who help out around the farm.
The youngest is Evan who is responsible for the chickens, even though his big brother keeps a watchful eye out... He knows that his little brother likes to cause mischief.
Evan turned 7 not too long ago and has developed some other interests.... He takes to archery quite well
Tara is the middle child of the family. She helps out with planting and harvesting in the garden but most of her time she spends out in the forest... The family doesn't really understands what draws her to it but Eva is always thankful for the supplies she brings home.
Finnian, the eldest son, mostly manages the crops and goes out hunting with his father when the pantry need filling. He has a really good relationship with his sister.
The year 1300 catches them a little bit off guard. They used up most of their supplies in the last winter and William goes out to hunt almost every day. Eva is worried that they will run short in a few days.
"Finnian, do you think you could run an errand down at the Bishops? I asked him to set aside some fish for storing and I just want to know if he has had any luck catching some.... I would do it myself but I'm feeling faint today."
"Of course mother, you should rest today. Don't worry, I wanted to talk to Emma anyway. We wanted to go to curch together before Easter."
When Finnian leaves, she lies done immeadiatly. She isn't feeling good lately, there were even a few fainting spells... If it doesn't get better she knows she need to go to the village doctor.
Finnian meanwhile has walked over to their neighbours, the Bishops. He's anxious about his mothers illness but happy that he can see his childhood friend, Emma.
"Sorry, but my father is out fishing today, he didn't catch much the last few days. I'll be happy to come by and bring some if he catches any."
"My mother is really worried, I think I'll just go there and ask him myself... or... We could go down to the river and try to catch some?"
"Sure, we can try... but don't be disappointed when we don't catch anything."
They don't catch anything but at least they had time to talk. For some time now Finnian is drawn to Emma's company but he can't quite put together why.... They decide to go to church together next week to pray for a good harvest at least.
But Finnian didn't need to worry. When Emmas father returns shortly after they get home, he shares a bountiful catch with him.
Emma watches him leave with a smile on her face. She's happy that he feels a bit calmer now.
When he comes home that evening, he's happy to see that his mother recovered somewhat she sits together with the neighbours who brought over some food so share.
"Look, Finnian, the neighbours brought some pheasants they hunted today, I can prepare it for tomorrow."
"That's nice, mother. The Bishops also had some fish to share. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, love, thank you. Let me take those to the pantry."
The neighbours look at their exchange fondly.
"Well, Finnian, you've grown up to be quite the responsible young man. Eva, would you like me to bring over my daughter sometime? He should start to think about marriage soon."
Finnian smiles awkwardly and looks away. Emma's smiling face shows up in his mind.
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Forbidden love prompts:
“We were never going to work” Curufin/Finrod, please 🤍
— ❛❛ // 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 :// 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙱𝙸𝙳𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴. ( please substitute pronouns as needed. )
It was Curufin who found that two-story townhouse. Built at the lower levels, at the side of Tirion-upon-Túna that faced away from the Trees and thus perpetually shadowed, it had been a dilapidated property, and Curufin channeled funds into it, had it renovated and made livable. Outside it looked the same as its neighbors, plain, and assumed to be some pompous lord's rental property. Of course, Curufin wanted it to be thought of that way. And anyway, who in their right minds would think of a prince of the Noldor having such a property in such a terrible location?
It's their hideaway, this. Has been their sanctuary for years, this modest two-floor, three bedroom house sparsely furnished. Though right now the one room upstairs they share lies in shambles around them, and Curufin and Finrod are sitting away from each other, the aftermath of the quarrel silent between them.
Curufin is still in his work clothes, sans his leather apron. Finrod still in his council robes, now rumpled. Finrod pokes at a shattered bottle of wine near him. The contents having long seeped onto the wooden floorboards. He can't help a wince. That will stain...
"We were never going to work, aren't we?" Curufin asks, voice hushed.
Finrod now inspects his nails next. "You were the one who hurried off to wed an elleth that is so incompatible with you I am amazed the marital bond formed at all. And so now you are also the one with the nuisance of a bond in your head, to stay there until the end of Arda."
"I will not regret Telperinquar," Curufin snaps in his direction. Oh this....this infuriating elf, with his golden hair and his smiles and his insane charisma that draws even the Valar to him without even lifting a finger---
"Ah yes, it's all nice when Tyelpe is a baby, an elfling. Yet you will want more children, Curufinwë...and your little wife would either give you another one, or, I don't know, you'll have to take your time in the broom cupboard in the jewelshop."
Fury in Curufin's silver eyes. Devil from Udûn! Wraith from Utumno! This Eru-forsaken Findaráto Ingoldo, infuriating-- beautiful beyond compare yet striking like a snake where he knows it hurts Curufin the most, this--
He crosses the room and yanks a handful of that hateful, but terribly beloved golden hair, and their quarrel flares anew -- shoves and snarls, yanks and pulls and--
Like all their previous quarrels, it ends up predictably, this session. Clothes off, limbs tangled. Curufin simply pulls Finrod closer into his hold, his other hand's fingers possessively twining strands of the other's golden hair around.
"Fuck you, Ugly. You dare criticize me for marrying Helwë," says Curufin. "When you strut around with your little perfect Vanya princess. Hmph. She makes me want to puke, with how she hangs from your arm and how she smiles whenever you tote her around in the great feasts and festivals and balls--"
Finrod laughs. That ugly, snorting, snork-laugh of his that he never does in public. Snorting. Like a damn pig. "At least, I will not shackle myself with a bond that not even death will eradicate, Frogpiss. I will delay as long as I can, citing this and that, this and this, that and that, and I will find a means to--." He abruptly cuts himself short. Curufin scowls deeply.
He grips Finrod by the jaw and makes the golden elf look at him. "You'll find a means to what?" Curufin snarls, his nails digging into Finrod's perfect skin.
"To sail east," Finrod says, pushing on in equal viciousness, spitting the words very much like a snake spitting venom. "Yes, bastard, I will sail east, leave your sorry, pathetic arse -- unless you bundle up your son as I will bundle up Aikanár, and leave with me."
It is only the last part of the statement that makes Curufin stop himself from really hurting Finrod. He studies that infuriatingly beautiful face -- those summer blue eyes, those long, curling lashes, those golden eyebrows--
He kisses him.
(They're mad. It's the only explanation for this tumultuous relationship. Whoever sane would keep seeing Curufin when he is wed? Only Finrod was insane enough.)
"Can you wait?" Curufin hisses. "Wait until the boys are grown-- and then we ask them, then we take them along--!"
Finrod shoves him off. "Stinker," the older elf says, already getting up and padding to the bathroom. Curufin snarls. He scrambles up and rushes to follow his lover.
#silmarillion#my drabs#curufin#curufinwe atarinke#finrod#finrod felagund#findarato#curufinrod#murder smith#golden poster boy#frogpiss and ugly#cheating tw
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Nahida and Wanderer, 24?
24. "Unless you ask me not to in the next five seconds, I'm going to hug you."
They're out just... people-gazing today, she supposes, if there were to be a word for the strange, indifferent curiosity Wanderer flings at people. They take a spot at the top of the tree trunk of Port Ormos and allow themselves the leisure of not doing anything important for the day.
"A lot of new travelers today," Nahida comments idly. "I wonder if they're tourists or merchants?"
"Tourists," Wanderer mutters under his breath, as if he wants to speculate but doesn't want to let his god 'win' in drawing him into conversation. "Ormos is full of Inazumans, Probably came from Watatsumi."
"Of course! The Sakoku Decree is gone, and Inazuma has had ample time to recover from its isolation. It makes sense that its citizens would choose this time to be adventurous."
Wanderer's eye twitches, and she doesn't need to be the God of Wisdom to know that he's giving her a once-over.
Ample time to recover from its isolation... oops, that could have applied to her, she supposes. Ah, well. Five hundred years of imprisonment felt like a long time, but that's because it was the first five hundred years of her life she could remember— like human children who view childhood as the longest stage of their lives, locked in by social rules they are yet to understand and changing in so many immutable ways. But when they reach adulthood and step into the wider world, that childhood feels like a distant dream, something short and not worth noting.
Right. They're here to destress, not restress themselves about thinking about all the philosophical tangents about life and growth. Nahida returns her focus to Wanderer, except—
"Who the hell is that?" Wanderer growls. His outstretched finger points to a boat that has just docked at the outskirts of the port, from which two people emerge: a bold-looking woman with brown hair and an eyepatch, and a small boy wearing a maple haori, pale hair uniquely streaked with a single strand of red.
Oh. Nahida curls her hands to scan: Kaedehara Kazuha of Inazuma, currently with the Alcor (which she assumes is a ship and its crew). Irminsul scanning... logging information... ah.
Kaedehara Kazuha, father Kageharu, grandfather Hisamichi, great-grandfather... Kaedehara Yoshinori, formerly Niwa Yoshinori.
"Kaedehara Kazuha, from the as-of-now disbanded Kaedehara Clan," she replies, knowing that he does not appreciate the truth being hidden from him. "Descended from Niwa Yoshinori, who was adopted into the Kaedehara Clan 100 years ago."
A sharp intake of breath. Nahida hears rather than sees his fists clench, the creaking of wood in stiff ball-joints. She doesn't have to cheat by using Irminsul to hear his thoughts: all the betrayal and complicated tang of bittersweet feelings about Niwa, written cleanly in the grimace lines on his face, in the twist of his lips.
(Lesser Lord Kusanali does not remember this, but back in a time when 'Lesser Lord' existed to contrast 'Greater Lord', this, too, could be an open script written across her face.)
She can't help the words that fall out of her mouth next: natural, the same way trees reach for the skies, or a dancer whose routine resides in muscle memory. "Wanderer. Unless you ask me not to in the next five seconds, I'm going to hug you."
Wanderer... freezes, likely not having heard that sentence in several hundred years. Nahida waits, ascertains his lack of response as an indicator that he won't obliterate her for touching him, and then pounces.
She's too small to give Wanderer a full, human-sized hug. But that's ok, because she's big enough to jump up and wrap her arms around his shoulders, covering the most important part of any hug: the heart.
(The chamber inside of the hollow puppet goes thump, thump, thump. And the heart of a god who traded away her Heart of God goes, I hear you.)
After seventeen-and-a-half beats, Wanderer turns his head and murmurs, "get off me." Contradicting his statement, his arms come up to wrap around her, too. Logical conclusion: he wants to hug her. Ditto, mission accomplished.
"Niwa lives on," she says, slowly, carefully. "His actions still led to this future, even if no one remembers what his sacrifice was really for."
(Why does this sound so familiar? Nahida tugs on the unease in her mind, but it does not go away, like a particularly stubborn patch of grease.)
Wanderer is quiet, for a second, before he looks away, at the same time bringing a hand up to twirl Nahida's strand of hair through his hands.
He says: "it doesn't matter either way. I remember him, so he'll live forever."
~~
I welcome anyone to send me more of these, my entire fic genre is hurt/comfort. I hope you enjoy!
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"Sinful Desires" - Epilogue
Previous chapters - Masterlist
“Do you find everything terribly strange?”
Aegon jumps at hearing Alyssa's voice.
“I am sorry, darling, I didn't mean to scare you,” she apologizes walking slowly towards her brother, who is leaning on the balcony watching the new soldiers training in one of the castle courtyards.
"You just caught me by surprise," he replies, reassuring her with a smile and offering his arm for support, “Should you be out of bed? Your maid said that you weren't feeling well this morning."
"It's nothing," Alyssa rolls her eyes and looks at her brother, "You seem worried."
Her green eyes scan the young prince’s face, his brow furrowed slightly and his violet eyes tired. When their gazes meet, Aegon shrugs, and Alyssa, for an instant, sees again the little boy he once was. A nostalgic smile is born on her lips while her hand caresses Aegon's face feeling a stubble that manages to draw a sigh.
“Sometimes I still can't believe how much you've grown in these years,” she says
Now it is Aegon's turn to roll his eyes, though he then takes Alyssa's hand and places a kiss on her knuckles, "While you, mother, look more radiant and beautiful than ever."
The princess can't help but smile at his compliment, "Did they also instructed you in gallantries in Riverrun?"
Aegon chuckles and shakes his head, his gaze drifting once more to the soldiers for an instant.
“Talk to me, Egg. You may be a man now, but I can still tell when something is bothering you, what is it?
There is a moment of silence before he speaks, “I don't know if I am ready. I don't know if I can do it"
She doesn't need to ask what he is referring to.
“You have prepared your whole life for this moment, Aegon, yet it is normal to have doubts. I'd be amazed if you didn't."
“I don't know,” he shakes his head, “Everything suddenly feels real now that I am here again. I feel like I wasted a lot of time living in the Riverlands when I could be here, doing more for the realm. Learning more about my duties."
"You weren't wasting time. You were Lord Kermit's squire and it was an honor for him to receive you these last few years in his ancestral home. The visits you made to the other lords of the Trident were necessary. You were too young to remember much about the war, but you know how important it is to keep the peace. That part of the realm was hit the hardest when our family bled, spending this time with them is a way for the Crown to make amends for what happened."
“I know, I know you are right, it's just…” he trails off, clearly measuring his words, “It's weird to be back. Everything looks the same, but feels different. And suddenly I have all these responsibilities. I understand the burden that weighs on my shoulders, and for that very reason I fear that I am not capable enough”
“This is your birthright,” Alyssa assures him, “I know you will make a fine king because you are a good boy.”
“You say that because you are my mother,” he retorts, dismissing her comment.
Alyssa just smiles.
At some point after her wedding to Aemond, Aegon had begun referring to her as his mother. At first, Alyssa had thought he was doing it by mistake, but when he began calling Aemond father, she knew her little brother was doing it knowingly. It had taken her a while to get used to him referring to her that way, but she hadn't tried to correct him. She hadn't pushed aside the memory of Rhaenyra, either.
No. Actually, the biggest challenge she and Aemond had had over the years was being honest with the children. As much as they tried to isolate them from the bloodiest facts of the war, the rumors and whispers were always there. So, after much discussion, they had explained to Aegon and Jaehaera what had happened, the terrible way their family had split into two factions and fought each other almost to extinction.
“We survived because we understood that House Targaryen must stick together,” she had told nine-year-old Aegon and Jaehaera. Aemond had been mostly silent throughout the entire conversation. He didn't say it, but Alyssa knew that he feared Aegon's reaction to knowing that he had killed his father, “We did many things to keep you both safe and protected, that was always the priority for both of us. For you to be happy, having a better future than ours."
As always, it had been Aegon who had asked the questions. Many of them. And they had responded as sincerely as they could. Jaehaera, on her side, had remained almost silent, her blue eyes more wistful than ever. Alyssa knew that, from time to time, she still had nightmares. And she also knew that the girl, unlike her brother, had experienced firsthand the horrors of war.
In the end, when they had been told everything, Aegon had remained tremendously close to Aemond, assuring that he was the only father he knew and loved.
“I'm saying this because it's the truth,” Alyssa assures him, “Besides, you won't be alone. The small council will help you to rule. As king, it is your duty to listen to them and theirs to advise you in the best way possible. You can trust them. Lord Tyland is a loyal man and I know he loves you well."
"Lord Tyland is a good friend," a soft smile appears on her little brother's handsome face.
"You don't sound convinced"
It takes Aegon another minute to reply.
“I don't want to disappoint you,” he finally admits, “Father has taken good care of the kingdom all these years. I would hate to see all his efforts come to naught on my own."
“Aegon, you could never disappoint us,” she assures him, “We are both very proud of you and your sister. We know that now that we will return to Dragonstone, you both will assume your duties with the best possible disposition and sense of responsibility. The realm is in good hands."
"Do you really have to go?" he asks, his voice denoting for the first time all the nervousness he feels, his face clearly anxious about the task he will have to take on shortly.
“My beloved boy,” she replies with a sigh, taking his hand, “I don't like leaving when you came back so recently, either. But the news was so unexpected and took us so by surprise that we just want…”
"Privacy?" he smiles, “It is fine, mother, I understand. Don't listen to me, I'm being selfish keeping you here when I should have insisted that you leave long ago. You deserve to live this moment as you choose."
Alyssa can't help but feel her tears well up in her eyes as she places her hand on her swollen belly, the baby moving inside her, perhaps sensing how emotional she feels.
"Is something wrong? Should I call Alys?" Aegon asks, noticing a wince on her face.
“No, no, I'm fine, it's normal to be this sore when the moment is so close,” she assures him, “I'm fine,” she repeats, noticing her brother's anxious expression.
And she is.
Discovering that she was with child had been a tremendous surprise. After her last loss in Harrenhal, her moon blood hadn't returned for months. And it hadn't flowed regularly until barely a year ago, though Alyssa had long ago given up hope of being a mother, so she hadn't even taken that fact into account. That was why, upon discovering her pregnancy, she had tried not to get her hopes up too much. But, as the months passed and the baby grew inside her, Alyssa had sent for Alys, immediately entrusting her old friend with the task of taking care of her during her miraculous pregnancy.
"I thought it was impossible," she had said with tears of happiness in her eyes upon seeing the woman after so many years.
"I told you that your body could heal," she had replied, examining her.
Aemond had not left her side for an instant since that moment. And she had had a hard time convincing him that she was fine and that she could carry on with her regular activities since Alys and Jaehaera would keep her company. He had reluctantly agreed, returning to his work with the Small Council.
“We should go to Dragonstone for a while after the baby is born,” he had told her one night a few weeks ago.
"Why?"
“We've waited so long for this,” Aemond had replied, “No, we didn't even imagine it could happen, but now that we'll have our baby after so many years, I want these moments to belong to just the two of us. Or the three of us. At least for a time"
Alyssa hadn't responded immediately.
"You do not like the idea?"
“I like it,” she admits, “But the kids…”
“They are already adults. Aegon is almost eighteen years old. It is time for him to assume his place as king. Besides, we won't be that far. If they need us, they can fly to the island without problem.”
"I guess," she nods.
The idea seems a bit selfish, yes, but the truth is that Alyssa can't wait any longer to meet the baby she's carrying inside. And to imagine that she could get away from the court, from her duties, from the whispers that followed her after so many years of infertility, and simply dedicate herself to watching her little one grow, together with Aemond, is too tempting an idea to pass.
"Let’s go then, for a time," she finally says, "the baby will need its siblings eventually."
"Of course," he smiles, "Besides, knowing those two, they'll surely visit us as soon as they can and we don't even have time to miss them."
Alyssa laughs, "You said the same thing when we sent Egg to Riverrun and he barely writes to us."
"He's young, my love, he must have other things on his mind," the prince kisses her forehead and places his hands on her belly, caressing it and smiling as he feels the baby move under his touch, "Besides, you could have flown with me when I offered it to you”
Alyssa rolls her eyes and doesn't respond. Dragon riding would never be an activity she would choose more than as a last resort. More than once Jaehaera had invited her to ride Morghul, but she had declined.
“I just hope they are okay once we are gone,” she sighs, “they haven't seen each other in years.”
The roar of a dragon and the shadow that casts over them tears Alyssa from her memories, bringing her to the present in the balcony with Aegon.
"Morghul," he says quietly, raising his violet eyes to the sky.
"Why didn't you go fly with Jaehaera?"
Aegon grimaces before shrugging again, "Lord Corlys wanted to talk to me about the situation of the royal fleet”
“Don't drown in your duties just yet, Egg. Aemond is still here, and it won't be long before we return from Dragonstone, you know he likes to feel useful to the realm," they both smile at her affirmation. “You could use some rest. You should take advantage of these days, and spend time with Jaehaera. When you were kids you couldn't wait to mount your dragons. And now that you are both riders, I haven't seen you fly together yet."
"Yes, I might do that"
Aegon sighs and Alyssa watches his expression, which seems to be lost for a few seconds. The princess wonders if her little brother is also worried about staying with Jaehaera in the castle. They had been very close as children, but learning about the war had created a kind of distance between them that Alyssa had thought they had managed to overcome over time. Until Aegon had had to go serve as squire and Jaehaera had resented being left behind.
"You don't have to marry Jaehaera if you don't want to"
"What?" Aegon watches her with wonder in his eyes, his shoulders tense and his brows furrowed once more.
“It's okay if you don't love her that way,” Alyssa explains, “I know it was expected for you to get married and carry on the tradition of our house, but we won't force a union that would make you both unhappy. If there's someone else, perhaps someone you met in the Riverlands,” Alyssa proposes tentatively, “If she's a noble young lady, you could easily make her your queen. Any maiden would be more than happy to marry you."
“And what would happen to Jaehaera?”
“She is a princess, she has royal blood, it would not be difficult to find a husband for her. I think there was talk at one time of betrothing her to the heir of Winterfell. She could… "
"No, no," Aegon cut her off sharply, "Jaehaera will be my wife, my queen."
Alyssa raises her eyebrows, amazed at the possessive, frightened tone she detects in Aegon's voice, "I just thought that…"
“Our feelings are not in question, mother. At least not mine,” he assures her, “It's just that meeting again has cost us a little more than I thought”
Alyssa nods and doesn't answer because suddenly the hooves of a horse hurtling through the castle gate catches her attention. Aegon averts his gaze from the princess, his eyes focusing on Jaehaera, who skillfully climbs down from the animal and adjusts her riding clothes.
The girl seems to sense their scrutiny because her gaze lifts to them, a half smile appearing on her face at the sight of Alyssa.
"Aunt!" she greets a moment later, after almost running to where they were, “What are you doing here? Alys said you should rest. You shouldn't have let her come up here, it could be dangerous,” her last sentence directed at Aegon, an impatient expression on her face as she crosses her arms.
"I didn't know she would get out of bed, I thought she was resting"
"How was your flight?" Alyssa interrupts when she notices that her niece wants to answer
“You know me, I'm always happy when I ride my dragon,” she replies with a genuine smile and Alyssa is amazed, once again, at how beautiful her little girl has become. Her eyes, as blue and long as her mother's, yet her face a feminine version of her father's, "I wasn't far from Dragonstone today."
“Sweetheart, try not to stray too far from the castle next time, it worries me in this weather…”
“No, auntie, please don't start scolding me,” she asks pouting and taking Alyssa’s hands, “Flying is my only refuge these days. I can't be embroidering and reading forever, and not all of us have obligations as noble and important as running a kingdom to keep our days busy."
“I never expressed myself that way,” Aegon replies, sighing.
“I'll go take a bath, I reek of dragon,” Jaehaera says, clearly ignoring him, “I'll see you at lunch.”
The girl kisses her aunt and quickly walks away from them.
***
"I'm frankly worried about those two"
Alyssa is sitting, like every night, on the windowsill. The sea breeze is her best ally now that labor is so close and her body seems to burn from the inside.
"We have to give them time"
Aemond, sitting across from her, strokes her belly gently.
"They don't seem to get along"
"Aegon is crazy about her," Aemond smiles, "He just doesn't know how to approach her."
“And what about Jaehaera? She seems upset every time I see her with him. I will not urge her to do her duty if she is not in love with him."
"Neither would I," her husband assures her, moving closer to Alyssa, "They deserve to know the joy of being married to someone they love, as we have known for almost fourteen years."
Alyssa smiles and reaches out to caress his face. Aemond closes his eye, and presses his face into her hand, a smile playing on his lips.
“It will be fine, being alone is going to force them to confront what they feel”
"Maybe, but..."
Alyssa stops talking as a sharp pain shoots up in her belly. Releasing a gasp of astonishment, she takes her hand to her lower back, trying to massage the area, but another pain as intense as the previous one seizes her again.
"Are you okay?"
“I think… I think you should call Alys. The baby is coming," she replies as she feels a liquid drip between her legs.
There is a moment of absolute silence between the two of them, who only look at each other, half surprised and nervous, before Aemond stands up and calls for the healer.
"Yes, the baby is coming," Alys pronounces a few minutes later, "It won't take long now, princess."
Alyssa clings to Aemond's arm to try to walk, too sore to just lie in bed. Her sweat drenches her nightgown and her messy hair falls down her back and clumps to her face, making her remember the scene so many years ago in Dragonstone, when she was assisting her mother during her labors.
"Is it true? Is the baby to be born tonight?"
Jaehaera is the first to enter the room, still dressed in her dinner clothes. Aegon enters after her a few seconds later.
"Mother, are you okay? They said that…"
He trails off as he watches Alyssa panting, one hand on her belly and one on Aemond's arm.
“Everything is fine,” it is Aemond who answers
“I wish to stay,” Jaehaera says, “I can help.”
“How would you help? You wouldn't know what to do,” Aegon replies.
“I am a woman, we know about these issues by instinct”
Aegon chuckles, “You're not even married, you'd be more of a nuisance. Come, let Alys and her midwives take care of it."
"No, I'll stay," and adds, "You're not the king yet, you don't have any authority over me."
"Enough!" Alyssa almost growls, “Jaehaera, my love, maybe it wouldn't do for you to stay. Births are not always easy. Aegon, take your sister outside and wait there. We'll call you once the baby is born."
Fortunately, they don't protest and leave the room. When they are alone again, Alyssa looks up at Aemond, with an I told you so look on her face, “See now what I mean?”
“It's just banter,” the prince replies, “They'll figure it out.”
"You'd better go to bed, princess," Alys urges her
And she's right because, a few minutes later, Alyssa is in more pain than she's ever known in her life before complete relief and hearing the most beautiful sound she could imagine, her baby crying.
“A girl,” Alys says, picking up a newborn who won't stop screaming and moving her arms and legs.
"Is she healthy?" asks Alyssa
"Is Alyssa alright?" asks Aemond in turn
“They are both very well,” Alys nods, handing the baby into the arms of the princess, who receives her too carefully, her hands slippery with her sweat and blood. The baby stops crying when she feels the contact with her mother’s skin, her eyes remaining open enough to notice her green eyes.
A sound of adoration escapes her throat before tears of happiness roll down her face, her fingers caressing the soft skin of her little girl. Alyssa raises her face to Aemond, who looks enthralled at the little girl, his face serious, but his eye denoting all the emotion he feels.
“Daena,” he whispers close to Alyssa's ear.
“Daena,” the princess confirms, repeating the name they had decided to give her baby just a few days ago, in case it was a girl.
"She is beautiful," Aemond sighs, "She is perfect, just like you."
Alyssa smiles and kisses the little girl's cheek before handing her over to one of her midwives to wash and wrap her up.
Aemond, unable to take his eye off the baby, waits impatiently until the little one is ready and receives her in his arms, cradling her as Alys helps his wife to her feet so the maids can change the bloodied sheets.
“You did a great job, princess,” the woman finally says, “You should rest now.”
“Thank you, Alys, for everything”
The healer nods and leaves the room with the midwives.
“I still can't believe it's real,” Alyssa comments as she feels Aemond sit next to her on the bed.
“She's our miracle baby,” Aemond says, stroking the baby's silver hair with his fingers, “Thank you, my love, you couldn't have given me a better gift.”
“I feel the same to you,” Alyssa replies, kissing her baby, feeling filled of love and adoration.
The noise of a couple of voices starting to get excited outside the door reach them, so they look at each other and sigh.
“I just hope she's not as a handful as that pair,” Aemond says, half amusement and half seriousness in his voice.
“Well, it will be many years before we get to know that,” Alyssa replies, “Now go, let them get in here before they kill each other. I want them to meet their sister."
Aemond places a soft kiss on both of their foreheads before opening the door and allowing the two kids to enter.
"Oh! She is adorable!" Jaehaera carefully climbs onto the bed, moving closer to Alyssa.
"Congratulations, mother," Aegon smiles as he watches the baby, "and you, father, of course."
Aemond smiles at Aegon and places his hand on his shoulder, patting it, “This is Daena. Your sister"
“Daena,” they almost chant, though Jaehaera smiles, “A beautiful name. I like it"
“I think so too,” Aegon turns away from the prince and stands behind Jaehaera, “I'll take good care of you, little Daena. And I will take you to explore the realm in Stormcloud’s back”
“Yes, but she will ride Morghul first,” Jaehaera replies.
"No, her first ride will be on the king's mount," Aegon looks at her with a smirk.
Jaehaera rolls her eyes, "My dragon is faster."
Aemond clears his throat, "Her first flight will be with her father, and Vhagar."
Alyssa sighs. She had agreed to fly to Dragonstone as it was faster and safer than crossing the sea during the storms they were experiencing. Besides, it was Aemond's dream to fly with his baby like his grandmother had done with his father, and she was not going to take away that illusion.
“You're right,” Jaehaera asserts, a blush rising on her cheeks, embarrassed, “I'm sorry, we're arguing like fools at this happy time. Can I hold her?”
"Of course," Alyssa places the baby carefully in her arms, "Be careful with her head”
“Hi Daena,” Jaehaera says, standing up and cradling her, her nose delighting in the baby scent emanating from her little sister, “I can't wait to have one of my own.”
Alyssa sees that Aemond frowns and wants to comment on his niece's words, so she takes his hand and shakes his head before pointing to Aegon, who has once approached Jaehaera and looks at her, entranced. Jaehaera, feeling her eyes, looks at him and smiles back, pulling Daena closer to the future king.
“You were right,” Alyssa says quietly when her husband returns to her side, “I think they'll figure it out on their own”
“Everything will be fine, my love.” Aemond hugs her and turns his gaze to her daughter. Alyssa rests her head on his shoulder and sighs, filled with relief and happiness to see her family reunited once more.
Yes, everything would be fine.
Because it had been for her and Aemond, and it would be for Jaehaera and Aegon.
And for Daena.
Everything would be just fine.
I have received such support from you guys this past few days!! Thank you so much for reading and giving me your impressions of my story <3
#aemond kinslayer#prince aemond#sinful desires#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#aemond one eye#aemond x original female character#aemond fic#ao3fic#sinfuldesires#angst#drama
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UKFR PLS 💜
Gives nose/forehead kisses: Fran obviously 💖 although I can see Artie giving him lil pecks when he's sad or tired - just coming to engulf Fran in his arms and press his lips against his worried lil forehead. Of course, the odd soft lil nose kiss first thing in the morning, that’s also adorable.
Gets jealous the most: Arthur. Like I said, he's an insecure, anxious lil guy and I imagine Fran is constantly reassuring him. That's not to say Francis doesn't get jealous either, I just think that while Arthur sees anyone as a threat, Francis will be really intimidated by certain people in particular. Like those he sees acting particularly soft with Arthur - he thought he was the only one who got to be soft with that grumpy little gremlin ! >:’(
Takes care of on sick days: overworking RT Chan strikes again 😩 like take a break before Fran forces you to take a break.
Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: do I even need to say? The image of Arthur clad in T-shirt and knee length swimming trunks reluctantly being dragged towards the sea by Fran all sunny smiles is SO clear in my mind. Perhaps I need to draw this...
Brings the other lunch at work: Francis. But I also think that Arthur would bring some form of takeaway to Fran because he knows he won't eat otherwise. Like just bringing him a sandwich and coffee from Pret and then he does the James Acaster bit like 'I like to manger un sandwich' and Francis rolls his eyes but he laughs anyway and please they are so CUTE.
Tries to start role-playing in bed: we all know they'd both be into the nastiest freak shit, but honestly I'm not sure who would initiate it. I can imagine, in the heat of the moment, Francis being like 'choke me' and Arthur obliges with suspicious vigour and later they're both like 👀👀
Embarrassingly drunk dancer: Arthur, it's always gonna be RT. And I think his dancing gets progressively worse with every drink he has ajsjsjs
Cheesy disco moves that would make even your grandpa look cool.
Why is this guy forcing his boyfriend to foxtrot in the middle of a club?
Oh dear lord he's twerking.
Firmly believes in couples costumes: ofc I think Fran is the queen of dressing up (I mean he's out every Saturday night in the club in full drag) and Arthur thinks dressing up is for kids. But once Fran gets him into it, he adores it. Like this is the man who goes to battle reenactments in historically accurate chainmail. He may pretend to be above it on Halloween, but this man loves dressing up and he needs to admit that so he can have the fun he deserves by dressing up like an evil wizard and scaring children.
Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: I think they both would. Francis would initially (he can't help it, he is a man of expensive taste) and since Arthur has come to expect this, he will also go all out and try to outdo Francis. Only these 2 could turn gift giving into a competition.
Makes the other eat breakfast: they are the type of couple that has to force each other out of bed in the morning. It's more like brunch at that point and it's basically just Francis telling Arthur to at least bring a slice of toast with his flask of tea on the way out and Arthur reminding Francis he needs something besides a cup of coffee and a cigarette.
Remembers anniversaries: neither of them are good at this so maybe they've just given up. Equally, they have to plan anything months in advance if they want to do something on a special occasion because I think they're both a little scatterbrained. Fran because that's just who he is and Arthur because this man is so stressed. Seriously, someone get him some help.
Brings up having kids first: I see Arthur being similar to Alasdair in that, even if it sucked at times, he looks back on his childhood with fondness and part of it is because he had such a big family and I think he wants to recreate that with Francis. He wants to be a dad 🥺
Kills the bugs: Arthur ajsjd the spider fiend.
First to define them as a couple: I think they would get off to a rocky start no matter the au but once they've settled, I think that Arthur would be kind of shy and anxious about speaking too soon and Francis would recognise that and voice what they were both thinking. (That they are in love 💗)
Who hides their guilty pleasures longer: Arthur. This man is riddled with shame and anxiety.
Snorts while laughing: Fran ✨
#okay these are really fun#ask#fruk#ukfr#sorry i forgot to publish this last night ajjdjs#headcanons
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A Christmas Confession pt. 1 (Married!ScroogeXReader)
I know, I know! I said I wouldn't post up much more for the story and that I'd only do some requests and headcannon stuff, but since listening to that gorgeous cover of 'Come What May' by Luke, my brain has been fraught with inspiration. And when I followed through with it, it turned into something just a little bit bigger because I've been dying to write Ebenezer being a loving Uncle figure to children. So here we are!
Part two will come along in a bit and bring with it quite a bit more romance. *wink* Right now, enjoy sweet Uncle Ebby with some adorable little girls plus YOU!
Note: Remember, the main idea of the story is you are Marley's estranged daughter raised in America but returned to England to live (for many complicated reasons) in your early to mid-20s (younger half-siblings now included because I want to write father-figure Scrooge and the Cratchit kids and street urchins can't always be around). For the many complicated reasons previously mentioned, you have married Ebenezer--a dear friend--and are struggling with the situation because you truly have feelings for the man, but are convinced he couldn't possibly feel the same.
Also, too late for Christmas stuff? NOT WHEN IT COMES TO 'A CHRISTMAS CAROL'. If Ebenezer can keep Christmas in his heart alive all the year, then why can't I?!
Enjoy!
youtube
Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x F!Reader (married)
Warnings: None, unless you count pining and seriously adorable Uncle Ebenezer with cute kids.
Summary: Christmas time has come again! This time, (probably at the behest of the children) you and Scrooge have invited the Cratchits and the Huffmans to stay with you for Christmas Eve so that you may all enjoy a Christmas morning together. You and Ebenezer agree to put the children to bed so that the Cratchits might have a break. For once!
A/N: Don't worry--we will get Prudence in the next part! And as always, insanely soft Scrooge.
And if anyone has any idea what the other Cratchit girls besides Kathy (who by all rights would probably be Belinda IDK why so many names got changed in this thing) are, let me know. Because right now, I'm just naming them things that sound right.
Part 2
A Christmas Confession pt. 1
Arms crossed over your chest, you leaned against the doorpost and watched with a small smile on your face as Millie and the young Cratchit girls knelt at the side of the bed, heads bowed and hands clasped in the nightly prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep….” Once they’d finished the recitation, they went around the bed, each thanking or praying to God individually about something or someone in turn. Millie started off the round: “I thank you, God, for sending us the baby Jesus. And I also pray that my friend Betty in Cincinnati has a nice Christmas this year. She told me in her letters she was wanting a new doll and a dress--I hope she gets them. I would just like a pony, with Christmas ribbons in its mane and tail. Thank you, God.”
You fought back the urge to laugh at that, successfully turning it into a quiet snort. Oh, you’re adorable but highly tenacious baby sister! Even at six years old, you could already tell you were in for a whirlwind of a time raising her up. God help you when the teenage years came!
A large, warm hand enclosed over your shoulder, drawing your attention away from the children to see Ebenezer standing just behind you. “How are we coming?” he murmured, eyes on the girls.
“We’re just finishing up our prayers,” you whispered back. “How are the boys?”
“Tucked in, waiting for you to come say goodnight.”
You gave him a look of disbelief. “What?! You mean to tell me you have that rowdy lot in bed already? How on earth did you beat me?”
The silver-haired man flashed you one of his divinely roguish smirks, making your knees feel the slightest bit wobbly. “I, my fine lady, am a man of many talents,” he whispered mysteriously.
Raising an eyebrow you smirked back. “Hmm, bribed them with sovereigns. I see.” You tsked your tongue and shook your head at him. “Cheater.”
Ebenezer didn’t even try to deny it, just merely burred that beautiful chuckle of his that stirred your soul.
The two of you fell silent and watched on as the girls continued on around their individual prayers. Ebenezer’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a wonderful, gentle, steady, and warm weight that conversely sent shivers tingling along your nerves. Oh, how you wished he’d put that hand around your waist and pull you into him, as close as a real wife should be. Or at least take one of your own hands into it and twine your delicate fingers together with his attractively large ones. There was no hope for it--you wanted to be completely and utterly possessed by him. Not merely carnally (though that in itself was a major appeal) but in the soft, devoted, domestic way too; the way you’d see the Cratchits and Huffmans behave towards each other; the way you’d see couples walking the street act; the way you’d grown up watching your mother and step-father interact. What you would have given to be totally and completely the woman of the house--to be Ebenezer’s woman.
But there was no point in pining for things that wouldn’t come to pass, so you forced your mind away from the concept and put it back on the girls, who were coming to the end of their personal prayers. Millie added in one last time: “Also, God, I know I’m still just a little girl, but I’d take really good care of a pony if I had one. I promise--cross my heart. Honest. Amen.”
Again you snorted, and you heard the man beside you rumble out another amused chuckle as well. “She certainly knows how to work the system,” he remarked.
“Oh, she’s completely incorrigible,” you told him. With that, you moved back into the room (regretfully slipping out from Ebenezer’s touch as you did) and approached the children. “All right, girls, very good. Now let’s get into bed.” You pulled back the thick covers and watched as they all filed between them one by one.
“We’re not sleepy yet,” Tilda and Maggie protested, despite snuggling in next to Millie.
“We want to stay up and try to catch Father Christmas!” Alice added enthusiastically.
An entire chorus of excited agreement went up from the girls
“But he won’t come unless you’re all sound asleep,” you countered, smiling the slightest bit. Oh, to be a child on Christmas Eve again!
“Why?” sweet little Judith asked.
All five sets of eyes shined brightly up at you in innocence and wonderment, awaiting an answer. An answer that you, admittedly, were a little bit stumped over. “Um… well… that’s just always been the way it is.”
“But why?” Millie pressed further.
“Because that’s how Father Christmas’ magic works!”
You and the girls turned to see Ebenezer coming into the room, slate-blue eyes as bright and shining as the children’s. He smiled and winked at you as he moved towards the bed. You felt your heart flutter just a bit, the slightest warmth of a blush color your cheeks. Thank God the flickering firelight would help conceal it.
The tall man went around the bed and sat on the side opposite you, beaming down at the snuggled-up little girls in a way that made your heart positively melt. “You see, girls, Father Christmas has a very special kind of magic that can only work when you are all asleep,” Ebenezer twisted up his face in a comically sneaky way and peered around conspiratorially as if he were about to relay a very important secret that only they were supposed to hear and then whispered, “because the magic is fueled by your Christmas dreams!”
You made saucer-wide eyes along with the girls and exclaimed, “Ooooh!”
“Yes,” Ebenezer continued. “That’s why you must all sleep tonight so that you may dream and give Father Christmas all the power he needs for his magic to work. Why without your dreams to help him, he would never be able to travel the world and deliver presents to all the little boys and girls! And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
“No!” Judith exclaimed, her eyes twice the size they normally were and so full of sweet innocence it broke your heart. She clutched her dolly preciously to her.
“No,” Ebenezer agreed with a serious shake of his silvery head. “I didn’t think so. So off to sleep for each of you.”
“How come we have to go to bed, but the grown-ups don’t have to?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah, shouldn’t they be sleeping so their dreams can help the magic too?” Tilda added.
That time it was Ebenezer’s turn to look stumped. Clearly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead in his story. “Um… w-well-”
“Grown-ups’ dreams aren’t as powerful as children’s dreams,” you came to his rescue. “But we make up for it by helping Santa in making sure that all of the children go to bed on time so that he has enough magic when he needs it.”
“Precisely!” Ebenezer brightened, smiling gratefully at you. Then he became very serious and stern as he turned to the girls again. “Which is why you must all go to bed at once,” he ordered, poking a ticklish finger into each little girl's tummy, causing them to squeal with laughter. “Because if you do not go to sleep, we will be failing in our duty to Father Christmas! Understood?”
Still giggling, the girls all sounded off: “Yes, sir!”
“Very good!” Scrooge said, voice still gruff like a Sergeant Major General’s. “Now, good night!” With a devilish gleam in his eyes, the man loomed down over the girls and gave them each a good hard nuzzle on the face with his cheeks, evilly chuckling ‘good night’ over and over. The girls laughed harder and tried to push him away, shrieking and squealing about his “whisker tickles”. That only made him continue with more vigor.
You couldn’t help but laugh right along with them. “Ebenezer, at this rate you’ll get them so stirred up again they’ll never be able to sleep for Santa!”
Laughing as well, Ebenezer pulled back to give you an acquiescent smile. “I suppose you are right, my dear. Without these little ones’ dreams, Father Christmas may never get his sleigh off the ground!” With that, he turned back to the girls and leaned back in, only this time to administer gentle kisses to their brows. Each girl gave him a return kiss on the cheek; Millie went a bit further to reach up and hold his face in place as she blew a wet raspberry into his muttonchop. (The man grimaced but judging how he still smiled, he didn’t seem to mind too much.) “Good night, my lovies,” Ebenezer murmured softly, an adoring gentleness in his blue eyes. “Sweet dreams and happy Christmas.”
“Good night, Uncle Ebby!” the girls chorused as he stood to leave.
“Right to sleep now,” you told the girls as you too stood up and began to leave. “No talking. Remember Santa’s counting on you to help him work tonight.”
“Yes, Y/N/Auntie Y/N!”
There was still the faint noise of giggling and whispered chatter as you closed the door, but it was quickly beginning to die down. Ebenezer’s magic had worked.
A mildly disgusted groan caused you to turn and find the man in question wiping at his spittle-slicked cheek with his handkerchief.
You giggled and pulled out your own handkerchief from your sleeve. “Here, let me. Your silky thing won’t do the job.”
With a grateful smile, Ebenezer gentlemanly bowed his face towards you. "That girl is going to be a menace to society, I tell you," he said, only half-jokingly.
You hummed in agreement as you cleaned him up, still having to stand a bit on tiptoe to do so (lovely, tall man…). "Don't I know it? She is her father's daughter--George was a… character. But I adored him.” You gave him a knowing smile. “Just as you adore Millie."
Ebenezer gave you a playful scowl, the softness in his eyes saying you were right. “You’d better go see the boys now,” he said, once you’d finished drying him off. “And then we’d better check on the older children to make sure they got themselves to bed.”
You nodded and put your kerchief away. As you followed him down the hall, you were still thinking about Ebenezer’s story. You’d never heard anything like it before. “Where’d you come up with that?” you asked, looking up at him.
The man raised a bushy brow quizzically. “Beg pardon?”
“The story about Santa’s magic fueled by children’s dreams. Did you hear that somewhere or did you just make it up on the spot?”
Ebenezer smiled. “Oh, that.” He chuckled. “Well, yes, I did come up with it, as a matter of fact, when my sister and I were children.” A sort of sad haze came into the man’s beautiful eyes to mix with the happiness of the memory as he reminisced. “You see, Jen was like any other child on Christmas Eve--well so was I, rather, for a while at least. Apparently, our parents couldn’t give her a satisfactory answer as to why she should go to bed rather than stay up and wait for Father Christmas.”
“So you came up with the reason for why.”
“Exactly.”
“Did it work?”
“It did. And Jen would ask me about it every Christmas after, even beyond the point where we stopped believing.”
You smiled and gently nudged the tall man with your shoulder. “She liked the story,” you said. “It is a good story, I must say. Certainly much more fun than what we were given: Mama and George told us if we didn’t go to bed, Santa would simply pass right over our house. It seemed to do the trick for us. Although my final year of believing, I did sneak out of bed and stayed up.” You laughed at the memory. “Sakes alive, did I give poor old George a fright when he came down early to put the presents out! He just about took me over his knee to tan my hide!”
“And I take it catching your stepfather was what caused your belief to fade,” Ebenezer surmised, looking a little amused by your story.
“Yes,” you admitted a little forlornly. “It was sad. I think it’s always sad when you stop believing in that sort of magic.”
“Yes,” Ebenezer agreed, also looking just a bit sad. But then he quickly gave you a bright smile. “But then you discover a new magic in making the old magic for others, and then you begin to believe again.”
“Just in a different way,” you said, understanding his meaning.
The man only beamed in agreement. “That was a very nice addition to the story, I must say,” he said after a moment. “The bit about adult dreams not being as powerful as those of children.”
You raised your chin a bit haughtily and flipped a curl of your hair with a smug smile. “Why thank you, kind sir,” you purred. “I thought it was inspired.”
Ebenezer chuckled at that. “You know, I’d forgotten that story,” he remarked as you both pulled up in front of the door to the boys’ room. “Until now.” He had a distant, contemplative look in his eyes.
Feeling a bit bold, you reached out and grabbed his hand, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. You smiled genuinely at him. “I’m glad you remembered it, Ebenezer,” you told him. “The girls enjoyed it and… and so did I. Truly.”
Ebenezer had looked a bit surprised when you’d taken his hand so suddenly. Now the surprise was fading back into warmth and affection. He squeezed your hand back. “Then I shall strive never to forget it again, Y/N.”
There was something in his manner; something extremely soft and unknown to you in his voice and gaze; something that warmed your being from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. For the umpteenth time, your heart fluttered--your breath caught in your throat. You may not have known what it was, but you knew you never wanted him to stop looking at or talking to you like that. Could… could he possibly- the thought was dismissed from your mind before it even had time to fully process. No. No, it wasn’t that; it wasn’t possible. Ebenezer saw you as his very dear friend and that was all; he would never look at you or speak to you in a way other than that. It was just fanciful thinking on your part that that warmth in his manner could be something more. Merely wishes. It was simply the merriment of the evening and the excess joy of the children rubbing off on everyone, enhancing every emotion. It was the spirit of Christmas--that was all.
You shook your head, clearing off the daze. “Well,” you said, clearing your throat before adding significant volume to your tone so you would be heard through the door, “we’d better go make sure these boys are asleep!” With that, you, rather reluctantly, let go of Ebenezer’s hand. And if you weren’t so deadset on Ebenezer seeing you as nothing more than a friend, you could have sworn his release was reluctant as well.
@the-house-of-auditore-frye @oldmanlusting
#scrooge 2022#ebenezer scrooge#ebenezer scrooge x reader#ebenezer scrooge x you#slow burn#romance#uncle ebenezer#married couple#pining--oh the pining!#children on christmas eve#that one character you KNOW is going to be an absolute little shiester but you'll adore them anyway#babysitting? kind of?#GIRL--HE LIKES YOU--GO FOR IT!!!#Can someone explain to me how to use the gif thing please? It takes forever for me to find anything I want#Youtube
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The Handee-Parents
Picrew by: Lord Potatohead
Phantom sadly can't draw rn due to a wrist injury
I made some OCs which are the Handemen parents. I headcannon that Mortimer Doesn't have an actual family, so the handeemen are like one to him
Here are the Ocs + some Data about them
Daisy's Mom
Name: Salomé Beatrice Danger
Occupation: Former Country music star (Artistic name is "Lil' Sally Doll"), song writter
Spouse : Trevor Danger (Decreased/I did not make a pic crew yet)
Nickname(s): Sal, Sally
Facts:
Has four siblings (Quintruplets)
Retired from music to fully take care of her children (She's happier with living a calm life with her family )
Has tripplet sons (Andy, Barny, and Clidy. They're Daisy's older brothers ) who are a group of country singers
Although the public expected Daisy to follow hee footsteps, Sal is super proud and happy of her daughter just as her sons are.
She's not as good aa a baker as Daisy, but loves to help her daughter bake
Keeps in check the Danger Twins (Daisy's kids) and is a mom figure to Nick (It's like Molly Weasly and Harrry Potter)
She likes to give goodies and cowboy hats to the handemen, even got a custom one for the good boi
She likes to sing in the neighborhood for charity events along with her family
extroverted
Nick basically became he kid (Nick is like the friend that every parent loves as their own tbh)
Rileys Parent's :
Name: Dr. Dorothea Eliza Ruckus
Nickname(s): Dora
Occupation : Psychiatrist
Spouse : Manfred Ruckus
her hair is brown but a bit redish
The one Riley got her temperament and sarcasm on
Is very good and reading body language and has a tendency to pay attention to tone and detail
Can be a bit nosy but means well
Does love Rosco but will not accept to be called his grandmother. Nana is better
Doesn't have heterochromia, her mother does.
Has blue eyes (It's a family joke that Riley decided to take on both her parents eye color)
Free therapy lessons :D
Amviabert
From German and Jewish descent (Not a believer but holds traditions with hubby and kid)
Will tell you that Fred said no pickles
Does like Nick platonically
Name: Dr. Manfred Oliver Ruckus
Nickname(s): Fred, Freddy
Occupation : Nutrician (Has a PhD)
Is where Riley got her emotional intelligence XD
Introverted like his daughter
Riley is more attached to him (She's a daddy's girl)
Has green eyes
Proud grandfather of the good boi
Will talk to Rosco and defend him when Riley is upset with him
Good with animals
Doesn't like conflict and adores his firery wife
Find Nick's tolerable.
Wil protect his baby girl at all cost
Nick's parents :
Name: Leighton Joel Nack
Spouse: Miriam (Deceased in an AU with Amber), Mortimer (In one Au with @dolly-royal/AMBER W H Y)
Nickname(s): None
Occupation: Businesses owner of a boat/ship company
Quite stern and Strict
Doesn't like his father that much
Dissaproved of Nick's career affiliations and desires to be an artist
Wasn't exactly a great father to Nick, and tried to force him to follow his footsteps
Refuses to talk about his late sister (Amber's OC) but blames himself for her death
Was heartbroken when Nick ran from home. Wanted to disowned him as revenge but Miriam made him realized He would feel worse
American
Had a late sister (Amber's Nicole)
Does regret the sour outcome with Nick, but won't do anything
Name: Miriam Elizabeth Nack
Nickname(s): Mimi (By Nicole/Amber's oc)
Spouse(s): Leighton Nack
Occupation: Accountant
She was just as stern as Leighton but much softer.
Probably the most decent out of the two as she did argue with Leighton being too pushy on Nick
Still dissaproved that Nick wanted art saying it won't be a fruitful career
Was deeply affected after her son ran away from home and convinced Leighton not to disowned him
Fundded Nick even though he didn't talk to her, and help him get his studio
French
Was Nicole Nack's childhood best friend (@dolly-royal Oc)
Feel free to ask me about them in the ask box
#hello puppets#riley ruckus#hello puppets midnightshow#nick nack#mortimer handee#Daisy Danger#Salomé Danger (OC)#Dorothea Ruckus (OC)#Manfred Ruckus (OC)#Leighton Nack (OC)#Miriam Nack (OC)
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I do both SFW and NSFW requests.
Fandoms:
Lord Of The Rings
The Hobbit
Harry Potter
The Avengers (I know it's marvel)
Marvel
DC
Dracula Untold
The Lost Boys
Twilight
The Labyrinth
Star Trek (Original series, next generation, and deep space nine. Essentially all but voyager.)
Miss peregrine's home for peculiar children.
The Outsiders
Narnia (if you request Aslan, PLEASE state what animal you wish the reader to be. UNLESS, you want me to make Aslan a shape shifter, okay?)
Spiderman: into the spider-verse and SpiderMan: beyond the spider-verse.
Rules:
No hard angst. It has to have comfort. Let me say it more clearly, there are only certain types of angst I'll do, but any I do, will have comfort.
No bullying, homophobia, sexism, or racism. I will not tolerate the haters bullshit.
If you are confused about something. Please ask me, I'll do my best to help.
Do NOT request scat play or water works. I'm not kink shaming but I haven't the slightest idea how to write it and I can't visualize it.
No non-con, dub-con or rape, I shouldn't have to say it but I am.
No vore. Just..no.
Yes. You can request monster fucker content. But only if the monster or said creature in question is sentient, at least humanoid (only applies to some) and has human intelligence. For example. You can request Venom, Davy Jones, centaur's or fauns(deer ppl), and Odo (his jelly little self). But you can't request one of the twilight boys in their wolf form, and you can't request a warg from lotr or the hobbit (Wtf). Understand now? And for fucks sake, if you request fucking Aslan (Narnia), PLEASE state what animal you wish the reader to be. UNLESS, you want me to make Aslan a shape shifter, okay?
No beastiality, zoophilia, or any of that stuff. Got it?
About me:
I'm genderfluid/pangender
I'm 5'8 and on the curvy side.
I'm diagnosed with multiple disassociate disorders and on top of that, I have other health/mental conditions. (Fun fact, my kneecaps pop out of socket)
I'm an animal person and own some.
I have to have some type of background noise at all times.
I'm usually a laid back person that goes with the flow but I'm also a chaotic neutral.
I'm only slightly new to writing.
My hobbies are: reading, napping, horse-back riding, music, and drawing.
I call dicks Weninei's. It may seem childish, but it's a running thing I say when referring to a penis.
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#LOTR#lord of the rings#the hobbit#the hobbit x reader#the avengers#the Avengers x reader#Marvel#DC#Marvel x reader#DC x reader#Dracula Untold#Dracula Untold x reader#The lost boys#the lost boys x reader#Twilight x reader#Twilight#The Labyrinth#The Labyrinth x reader#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#star trek#star trek deep space nine#star trek next gen#narnia#narnia x reader#spider man: into the spider verse#spider man: beyond the spider verse
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